


Black Wolf

by HKi



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HKi/pseuds/HKi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theron's journey began in a dream, and, if Fate would have its way, would end in a nightmare.  However, Theron learns that the end of his story may have less to do with the army he gathers than struggles within himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt: Immortal

The black wolf was calling Theron from across the field.

There were no trees.  It was strange to see the land without trees.  The Dalish never camped in plain open fields, so a world full of trees was all Theron had ever known.  It had never even occurred to him that places such as this could exist.  Where could the creatures of the wild hide?  Where could they live?  With nothing but an endless field of golden grass and blowing wind, how could there be life?

There was no life on this plain save for Theron and the wolf.  Not even the _aravels_ , the only representation of home Theron had, were there.  He was alone, cut off from kith.  Neither was his knife at his side.  All he had were the clothes on his back.  No matter where Theron turned, he saw nothing.  Nothing except for the wolf.

He walked toward the wolf.  As he did, so too did the wolf approach him until they were only a few feet away from one another.  The beast was enormous, twice the size of an ordinary wolf, and a foot or two away from being Theron’s height.  Theron crouched low to the ground but did not sacrifice his footing; the wolf barely sat on its haunches, its hackles raised, as if ready to strike.

“I mean you no harm,” Theron said.  The wolf seemed to hum, but it did not relinquish its willingness to fight.  Yet Theron knew it would not come to that.  He abandoned his casual but careful stance and went to his knees.  The wolf relaxed its hackles and lowered its head until it was face to face with Theron.  It did not have the gold eyes of a normal wolf—it shared the deep olive of Theron’s own eyes.

As soon as Theron knew he was no longer in danger, he let go a sigh of relief.  The wolf too sighed, its powerful shoulders rising and falling.  When Theron moved to a sitting position, the wolf lay down.  For a moment, its eyes looked gentle.  But the longer Theron stared the more the wolf reminded him of hard stone, for the wolf is not compliant; it is immovable.  But the wolf is not stubborn; it is independent.  But the wolf is not lonely; it is one of many.  But the wolf is not invisible; it is a piece of the whole.

Was this what the wolf was supposed to represent for Theron?

Theron reached out to touch the wolf.  It brought its head forward, and, halfway between the two of them, they touched.  Theron’s fingertips were on the wolf’s nose.

He could have gone closer—he wanted to.  He wanted to feel the wolf’s dark fur against his skin, to grasp at the muscles of such a powerful beast.  No, it was more than that.  He wanted to learn from this creature, to partake in the wisdom of a being who answers to no master and bows to no enemy, who is both one _with_ its pack and one _of_ its pack.  He wanted to drink from the fountain of knowledge of this sage-beast.  Of this immortal.

Something was compelling him to stay back, telling him that he’d already learned all he came here to learn.  Theron didn’t know what it was, and he wasn’t sure yet that he had learned anything.  But, for now at least, he and the wolf could only touch, just barely.  Then Theron stood; so did the wolf.  They walked past each other, on into the golden plain.

Theron did not look back.


End file.
